


In A Day's Work

by ImaKaraTabiHe



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Criminal Pasts, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Beta Read, Past Presidents, President Leonard Snart, Threats, bodyguard!Barry, protective Len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 08:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12980256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaKaraTabiHe/pseuds/ImaKaraTabiHe
Summary: Leonard Snart never thought he'd ever be anything more than a criminal.  It turns out he thought wrong and now he's got an entire country to govern.  At least he has someone who's caught his eye by his side.  If only the man weren't in charge of making sure that Len stays alive.





	In A Day's Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheWickedWitchofDammitJim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWickedWitchofDammitJim/gifts).



Some days was harder than others to believe that ex-Rogue Leonard Snart was President of the United States. _Leonard Snart._ It was supposed to be just a whim, but somehow or another people liked him.

…Okay. Maybe they didn't like him, persay; rather they liked how he leveled with them in speeches. He didn't come from wealth or some posh college. He was simple in his speeches and ideals. “A cold realist,” his _si_ ster called him, and how could he deny that?

He liked to think it was more than the mess of the last POTUS that helped make him president, but even then, he could understand. The last POTUS was a fuckwad. Verne knew nothing about the daily lives of his citizens and just couldn't fathom that his view could possibly be mistaken. (Wrong.)

That asshole had pulled protects from everywhere except himself and his money hungry friends. Len hated scum like him, so when the results of the election was announced? Len allowed himself a vicious smirk at the trash. The people had spoken, and their choice wasn't someone who waved his money and power around but a former criminal. It said a lot about how much people wanted change that they'd willingly voted for him.

He almost felt bad for them as if he were cheating them like one of his marks. Len wasn't, of course. He had dedicated his first days in office to building back environmental and civil rights protections. For someone who never did anything for a stranger, he took his job seriously.

It didn't hurt that there were some “perks” to being POTUS. Good food. Comfy living…. And one very dashing bodyguard with the most beautiful smile Len'd ever seen. Barry Allen.

His full name was Bartholomew, which was almost as bad as Leonard. Barry suited him much better. (Of course, the man tried to appear annoyed with him, but Len saw through his act, saw his red tinted skin.)

Lisa said Len was in too deep, and when Len realized Barry's duty as his bodyguard, he couldn't agree more. Barry was everything Len had ever wanted and so much more. He was the rare kind that Len wanted to make a mess out of, starting with those lush, red lips of his that were too kissable to be real.

He wanted the bodyguard to stay by his side, at his side. And he was, in a way, but just as a bodyguard, ready to jump in front of him in times of danger. Len hated that. Especially in times like this.

  


\-------

  


It tore at his heart the way red shone on the sidewalk, people yelling and police jerking him behind cover. Len struggled against their acts of protection. He didn't want to remain in the background. He could use a gun just as well as they could!

Another shot rang through the ear making his heart catch in his throat. “Barry!” Len called above the voices trying to tell him to stay back. By his side, Mick clung to his sister, a self-appointed bodyguard because “I don't do political shit,  Len”. She looks more pissed than frightened in this situation than normal, but she scares the shit out of him sometimes, so yeah.

The suit feels heavy on his body, a reminder that he's not the Rogue he used to be anymore, no longer a thief. Len has duties to attend to, things to fix in the nation, but fuck if he doesn't want to rip it off and just do what he wants to. He wants to abandon it all – to go out there, to take the man who's got his heart without even knowing it and keep him safe.

Another shot rings through the air.

Barry steps into his vision again, dark suit even darker when the wet blood seeping through it. “Yes, Mr. President?” he questions, as if he's not been shot several minutes ago.

He looks so serious, trying to hide the shaking of his limbs as Mick and Lisa step out from taking shelter. Len steps out behind then, seeing the shooter on the ground, bloody but alive. As police approach the shooter, Len can barely find it in himself to care. He just wants…

“Mr. President?” Barry asks, head tilting in the most adorable puppy impression Len's ever seen with a confused frown on his face.

“Fuck, kid,” Len breathes out, relieved to see him alive. Injured, but alive. “Are you okay?” He reaches out with trembling hands, afraid to hurt him any further.

Lips curving into a gentle, softer smile, Barry replies, “I'll be fine, Mr. President.” And Len can't stop himself from reaching out and brushing Barry's cheek, affectionate. It instantly darkens beneath his touch and lights flash from reporters' cameras.

“Isn't this going to give your opponents more ammo?” Barry questions softly, eyes looking at him with concern.

Len shrugs. His only concern right now is Barry Allen, his reckless bodyguard who he wants to protect with all he has. “Maybe, but they find the stupidest things to make ammo out of. Really. Last month, they tried to make a big deal out of the fact that I turned down McDonald's for Japanese. How would that make me appear to hate American food? Maybe I actually like being healthy? I don't know why they wouldn't think of that,” he rambled.

Barry smiles at him, and his heart swoons at the sight. “I don't know, Mr. President. We only get one shot at life. Who wouldn't want a burger and shake over octopus?”

He couldn't help but chuckle softly. “And life's too short to eat healthily?” Len suggests.

The light dances behind his bodyguard as Barry bobs his head with a silly smile on his face. “Oh definitely.”

Sirens approached as emergency responders piled into the scene. Len's sharp eyes caught paramedics coming closer. “Well, why don't we get you looked at and then we can get some burgers, yeah?”

The sound of a stomach growling made Len's eyebrow shoot up. Even bloody and injured, Barry's hungry. “T-that might be nice,” Barry stutters, cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

His eyes caught the paramedics with their stretcher rushing over. Len definitely isn't liking the way the red was seeping through Barry's clothing. “Take good care of him,” Len told the paramedics, unwilling to leave him alone for even a moment, but he can see Lisa with the media (how the Hell they got there so fast, he doesn't know). 'Bloodhounds, the lot of them,' Len can't help but groan. He needs to go make a statement, but…

“Go on, Mr. President,” Barry's voice urges him. “I'll be back soon,” he continues, assuring Len.

“I'd expect nothing less from my best bodyguard,” Len teases lightly. His heart sighs when the paramedics take Barry away to be taken to the hospital.

Two minutes and he misses him already. “Okay, everyone settle down,” Len orders, approaching the swam of reporters and camera people. “So, what happened was this...” he begins to tell them.

  


Almost two hours after he's finally gotten finished with the media and the police, Len finds himself visiting the hospital. He's got flowers, his bodyguards… He's ready to see Barry again, to blot out the vision of red.

Except… “Well, well, well, Scarlet,” Len snarks as he eyes Barry staring at him with shock. “I didn't expect to meet you so soon. In fact, I thought you'd be in bed.” The 'not checking yourself out of the hospital' was more than implied.

Barry flushes under his gaze, red tint going down his neck – and gosh, Len just wants to find out how far down it goes. “I- uh, well… I'm fine, Mr. President, sir.” The way he carries himself delicately says otherwise.

“You do remember you got shot, don't you?” Len says, walking over to his side, ignoring the chatter of people. Len sure as hell couldn't forget.

“It wasn't all that bad...” Barry muttered, shyly.

While Len agreed that it could've been worse, he also knew that it could've been better. “Want to come work so soon? Why one might think you've got a cr-”

“Barry!” a voice interrupts Len, making him want to growl and hit someone.

Heads turn and, seeing who it is, Len really thinks he might end up hitting someone. How that joke of a leader manages to remain alive, he just doesn't know. His bodyguards look equally as pleased to be there. Len sympathizes with them.

It doesn't escape his notice how all the color escapes Barry's face, leaving a pale, unlikeable color in its place. The spark in his bodyguard's eyes fades, his lips pursing with upset. Len takes it upon himself to step a little closer to him, on guard.

“Sir,” Barry greets the man reluctantly.

“Mr. Dern,” Len says, drawing the man's eyes to him. 'Yeah, keep your eyes off him.' But it only lasts a moment.

“Mr. President,” Mr. Dern returns, attention slipping back to Barry. It makes Len want to growl. “I heard you were injured,” the man sorrowfully explained. “I had to come check on you. Although,” he looks over Barry, “I thought you'd be in laying down a little less… dressed.”

Hands clenched, Barry tries to redirected the conversation. Len can tell he doesn't like the slimy look on that piece of shit's face… He doesn't either. In fact, he downright despises it and wants to wipe it off his face. With a gun. Sue him, he used to be a criminal.

“I think we should be going now, don't you, Barry?” Len interrupts, taking a breath when Barry looks at him, relief evident on his face. “I believe you promised to show me that café before our plans got interrupted.”

Dern smiles, stupid teeth matching his stupidly dyed hair. “Ah, you mean 'Twitters'?”

“Jitters,” Barry grinds out.

“Ah, yes. I remember how you loved that place. Didn't your little friend work there?” Dern questions.

“Sister,” the bodyguard corrects, seeming to become increasingly agitated.

“Ah, yes. She's a journalist now, isn't she? I'm sure she's highly appreciated. Perhaps you could tell me more over coffee,” Dern suggests in a way that sounds more like a demand than an offer.

“Actually, I think we're good,” Len cuts in. God, he's been trying to get the dick to go away, but he just doesn't seem to get the message. How this man even got to be a candidate for the presidency was beyond him. “Barry and I have _special_ plans.”

The horrible man snorts. “You say that like it's a date.”

“And what if it is?” Len dares, eyes flashing. The other bodyguards who accompanied him stiffen, feeling just how heated their president is becoming.

Maybe it's silly, but Len can't help but feel a thrill at seeing the man's eyes widen. And then.. his attention flew to Barry. 'Shit.' His stomach dropped.

“ _You.”_ It's not a hiss, but it comes close to it and Barry flinches back, fear on his face. He hadn't been afraid when the bullets flew, but now? He looks horrified. Dern's features look thunderous, angry. “After all I've done for you… you decide to hook up with this.. filthy criminal!?”

Well, he wasn't all that wrong. But still. Rude. Len listened to him rant about how he was a “rat, low class member of poverty that didn't even have a family”.

“ _Shut up.”_ Len's eyebrows snap up as Barry growls. His sweet bodyguard looks ready to kill. “You don't get to talk about him like that,” Barry bites out, narrowing his eyes. “Len's been nothing but kind-hearted to me, unlike you. So maybe he does like me? So what!? He doesn't touch me without my consent. He respects me as a person, as an equal – not some, some _toy_ to be taken and used at a moment's notice! I would've broken your fingers the first time you ever touched me if you hadn't threatened my sister with lawsuits!”

A million thoughts are running through Len's head as he listens to Barry yell at the man. It's a mix of heartbreak, images of Barry afraid and touched without his consent. But mostly? Len's trying to control all the less than just plans of sending the fucker twelve feet under ground.

“Why you--!!!” Dern raises a hand towards Barry and that's when Len steps in. Fuck if he's going to sit back and let the man hurt his Scarlet.

Len pulls Barry into his hands, angled away from the man as his bodyguards surge forward, grabbing the former president and pushing him to the ground. They seem to a bit enthusiastic but maybe that's just him.

“You will _never_ raise your hand towards him again,” Len glares down at the mess of a man. “I will make sure you get thrown in prison for every single time you hurt him, threatened him, _touched him._ ” He hugs Scarlet's warm body against him tighter, eyes still narrowed at the pathetic excuse for a human being. “Take him away,” he orders the bodyguards, trying not to smirk as they hold him a bit too tightly, dragging him out a bit too roughly. 'Serves him right.'

“U-um.. Mr. President?” a small voice squeaks out, and suddenly, Len is reminded of how closely he and Barry are. Looking back at his face… he could just lean in a little forward and kiss the red lips, taste them..

He clears his throat as he lets Barry go. “I.. do like you, and apologize for what I did – holding you, I mean.”

But then Barry smiles at him, softly, gently. Damn, he's so far gone on this angel. “Don't,” Barry tells him, tips of his ears red. “I.. actually, I like you do.” The red that Len loves so much tints his cheeks, and shit – Barry's holding his hands!

“Would you.. mind if I kissed you?” Len questions gently.

For a moment, he's worried that he's going too fast, stumbled over something he shouldn't, but then Barry smiles at him. “I don't kiss someone I'm not dating,” Barry teases lightly.

“Hmmm… And what if I want to date you?” Len strokes Barry's hands with his thumbs.

“Then, I guess I'd say 'yes'. After all, we do have special plans, don't we?” Barry remarks.

And Len can't take it anymore. He leans forward, brushing his lips against his quick thinking bodyguard, the one who threw himself in harm's way for him, the one who's smile melted the ice around Len's heart… And Barry kisses him back. It's so perfect, so warm.

Lights flash in the background – cameras going off. He knows there are going to be countless articles, questions about the whole afraid, but right now? Fuck if he cares. Len has the most priceless treasure of all – one bodyguard named Barry Allen.

**Author's Note:**

> I really have to apologize for a lot of things in this fic. It didn't quite turn out how I thought it would, but I guess they rarely do, huh? I hope you liked it still, TheWickedWitchofDammitJim. Have a wonderful holiday~


End file.
